


Nothing to Hide

by tempus_teapot (dreadnot)



Series: In the Strangest Places [5]
Category: Dragon Age
Genre: M/M, in the strangest places
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-26
Updated: 2011-10-26
Packaged: 2017-10-24 23:58:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/269354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreadnot/pseuds/tempus_teapot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Oghren is smarter than he lets on. Sometimes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing to Hide

“Look at ‘em,” Oghren grumbled, waving his tankard toward the motley collection who were supposed to save Ferelden - and consequently the rest of Thedas - from the Blight. “Not a one of them isn’t hiding something.”

He belched and punched Dal’s bicep with his free hand. “Every last one, even you. Nah, especially you.”

Dal rubbed his arm and frowned. “You have a point, I’m assuming.”

Oghren grunted and slid a little lower, trying to find just the right angle to prop himself against the log they were sharing. Getting comfortable in full plate mail was a challenge, but Oghren rarely seemed to take it off despite that.

“Probably,” he said, watching Leliana dole a portion of stew from the communal pot into a bowl for Alistair. Waiting his turn for a portion, Zevran said something to Wynne that made her laugh and lightly swat him with her own empty bowl. Sten crouched with his meal and fed a piece of meat to Dal’s mabari, Walter.

Shale stood at the periphery, allowing Sandal to turn her crystals until the whole array suddenly flared a brighter green. The dwarf cried, “Enchantment!” while his father looked on, beaming with unconcealed pride.

And outside the communal warmth, the yellow flash of Morrigan’s eyes before she saw Oghren’s regard and turned away to busy herself with her own meal preparations.

Dal followed Oghren’s gaze, mentally sifting through his companions as his eyes fell upon them - their wants, their needs, their strengths and weaknesses, and of course their secrets. He had to know them to know how best to use them. It was cold, but it was a cold time in Ferelden.

“Are you going to share your point?” he asked.

“Eh,” Oghren picked at his beard and said nothing for so long that Dal started to think that the dwarf had passed out on him. It would hardly be the first time. “I’m just saying... Branka started thinking about people like just tools and look what happened.”

Zevran collected two bowls from Leliana and left the circle of firelight, walking toward them with a spring in his step that Dal found endlessly fascinating despite his best efforts not to.

Oghren grunted again and pushed himself up off the ground with a series of guttural noises that would have made Dal fear for the dwarf’s health if he did not know him so well. He looked down at Dal and then at Zevran and said, “Just think about it,” before he left Dal to go let Leliana feed him.

“For you,” Zevran said, offering Dal his choice of bowls. He stood over the seated mage and glanced back at Oghren. “What were you and our smelly friend talking about so seriously?”

Dal took a bowl and watched Oghren lumber away before he shook his head. “You know Oghren.”

“Indeed I do.” Zevran’s laugh trailed off into silence as he looked down at Dal for a long uncomfortable moment. He finally filled the silence, saying, “I would ask if I can join you, but you always deny me. If I were not so sure that I am irresistible, I might think you were resisting me.”

He lingered for a moment despite that before he turned to return to the fireside.

After a moment’s hesitation, and a thought about how cold inside one would have to be to feed your people to darkspawn, Dal stopped him with a word. “Zevran.”

Zev turned back. “I have asked you to call me Zev. My friends call me Zev.”

Dal nodded and patted the empty spot at his side. “Will you join me for dinner, Zev?”


End file.
